


lean on me

by zuzuzuuu



Series: world's greatest first love [2]
Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild cussing, nothing happens, pda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6839614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzuzuuu/pseuds/zuzuzuuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wenhan is put out by Yibo x puberty. Yibo thinks that’s silly, since it’s clearly a good thing. Seungyoun thinks the two of them are really gross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lean on me

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a story about “What if yibo gets really big and buff and tall after puberty and then wenhan gets a little upset cos _he’s_ the one who should be big buff tall, how is he supposed to be the older one now, but doesn’t want to say anything because it sounds petty and he’s _not_ short, thank you”. It got away from me. This is not that story.

Puberty strikes Yibo as it were a flash of lightning and he the only tree in a field of grass. Wenhan pauses at the comparison that he just came up with, and changes his mind. No, no, that makes me sound really short. Maybe a lightning rod.

“What lightning rod?” Yibo asks, plucking his earphones out. Crap, he must have said that out loud. “Nothing,” Wenhan says, and picks up the menu from the seat. “I said, what are you getting?”

“Probably Set A,” Yibo turns away, but doesn’t plug his earphones back in. Seungyoun leans over from across the aisle to high-five him for his choice of in-flight meal. The sound distracts Wenhan from the vast selection of choices, and only serves to remind him, when he looks up to see them do a complicated bro-shake, that Yibo has really grown from the time they first met. For one, he’s made fast and firm friends, no longer as stiff when meeting people for the first time. Another would definitely be the height.

At the thought, he sighs and turns the page. He doesn’t notice Yibo look over, pausing and turning off the game on his phone, until he feels a poke at his side.

“What,” Wenhan jumps in his seat, ticklish.

“Is it that hard to choose? I thought you were off your diet.” Yibo seemingly misinterprets his gloomy sigh to be frustration at his indecisiveness, which Wenhan is sort of relieved by and has no intention to correct. “Set B has the salad, I could get that with you if you want.” Yibo leans over to look at the page Wenhan had absentmindedly settled on, pointing out the accompanying photo illustration. His fingers are long and well-structured, rather like the rest of him now – and like his shoulder, pressing insistently into Wenhan’s own. It should hurt a little, but Wenhan finds he’s more preoccupied with the warmth Yibo gives out. Not cold at all, he thinks, and when he turns a little to the side he can see Yibo seriously consider which would be the better choice, strands of hair falling out of his snapback.

“Hello, earth to Wenhan,” he watches Yibo’s mouth say, and then the words register.

“I wasn’t,” he replies hastily on auto-pilot, and flicks his eyes back up. Yibo’s expression is slightly exasperated, a bit amused, mostly fond. Fond?

“You weren’t what?” he asks, leaning back out of Wenhan’s personal space. He hadn’t really realized Yibo had gotten that close.

“I wasn’t –“ Wenhan is about to say, _looking at you_ , but catches himself in time. “- planning on eating too much today. You can have A with Seungyoun, really.”

Yibo frowns at him, unimpressed. “Then I’ll get whatever you’re getting,” he says stubbornly. “I need to diet too, anyway.”

“You? You’re already like a stick,” Wenhan scoffs, though Yibo’s determination to accompany him makes something warm spread through his chest. “All thin, and long, like a noodle.”

The lack of response to his statement makes Wenhan stop flipping through the unconvincingly few pages. Yibo is looking thoughtfully at him. “Long,” Yibo drawls. Ah, dang. He messed up.

“You’re not that short, you know,” Yibo says, and Wenhan curses his lack of brain filter and Yibo’s uncanny ability to understand him. He chooses to reply with, “I’m not even short,” which is the truth. It’s not his fault the rest of them are just as tall, or even taller than he is. He’s tall enough to do a slam dunk, dammit!

Yibo simply laughs and raises his hand from his lap. For a moment, Wenhan thinks he’s about to flick him in the forehead, but instead his vision suddenly tilts as Yibo gently pulls Wenhan’s head down to rest on his shoulder.

“What,” Wenhan says for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“You see, it’s a good thing,” Yibo says, quieter now that the vibration goes straight to Wenhan’s ear resting on his collarbone. “Now you can lean on me, like this.” There’s white noise all around, people settling into their seats, some faraway passengers stowing their hand-carry luggages into the space above them. Wenhan stills, listening to Yibo’s slightly rushing heartbeat that gives him away, still the same young boy at heart, kind to the people he holds close and just a little unsure about himself. He closes his eyes and smiles.

“Your shoulder’s too bony though,” he complains half-heartedly. “I think you should eat more, after all.”

Yibo snorts. Seungyoun turns and sees them, and then he starts shaking manager-hyung beside him, who had finally managed to catch some sleep. “Look at this,” he says, outraged. “What the heck. Is this allowed? Is it? I don’t want to die from the heart-eyes they’re giving out.”

Wenhan groans and wants to lift his head, but Yibo’s hand on the side of his head stops him from moving. “Shh,” Yibo shushes, stroking Wenhan’s newly grown-out sideburns. “My wife’s resting.”

“ _Who’s_ your wife,” Wenhan says. Oh, Wang Yibo, it is _on_.

**Author's Note:**

> "my wife" - 我的媳妇儿


End file.
